Was It Right to Forgive? A Domestic Romance

“Well?”

“She trembled, and asked: ‘Is my father ill? Has anything happened to Harry? What is the matter, Mr. Van Hoosen?’ And I said, ‘You had better hasten home, Miss Filmer.’”

“What did Duval say?”

“He bowed and palavered, and got out of the way as quickly as possible. Poor little Rose was sick and white with fear; he understood my meaning well enough. I left Rose at her own door. I did not wish to explain to Mrs. Filmer then. But I must speak to you, Harry, for Rose is in danger. I love her, and will devote my life to her welfare. She loves me, 149 though she will not trust her heart when it tells her so. To-morrow I am going to see your father and mother, and make an offer for your sister’s hand. But I find it impossible to point out the danger in which this dear little Rose lives. Yet they should know it, for, oh, Harry! her salvation may depend upon their knowledge, and their willingness that she may be taken out of temptation.”

“Can you do this?”

“I can.”

“Will you do it?”

“I will. I shall live for her, and her alone.”

“Pardon me, Antony, if I suggest that cash may have a great deal to do with this proposal.”

“I am rich. I shall spend all I have to save her. I shall take her to Europe for a year. All that love and money can do to make her strong shall be done.”

Then Harry let his hand seek Antony’s hand, and they understood each other, without words. But Harry was very unhappy and also very angry. His betrothal to Adriana had been interfered with because it was supposed to be inimical to the social interests of his sister; and now the joy of his reconciliation to his love was shadowed by Rose’s misconduct. Yet he felt that some steps must be taken at once to prevent the evils which would certainly result from her selfish weakness, if it were unchecked. For, after all, the sin resolved itself into the black one of selfishness; Rose was determined to have the pleasure she desired, though she should tear it through, the hearts of all who loved her, though it should bring her personally only misery and shame.

Such thoughts were natural enough to Harry, and they irritated as well as wounded him. It scarcely 150 needed his mother’s look of reproach and querulous question as to “why he had forgotten the dinner hour,” to make him speak the truth, with almost brutal frankness.

“Where is father?” he asked, impatiently.

“Your father has been all day hard at work in the Astor Library. He came home perfectly worn out, and had his dinner served in his study. He did not feel able to dress for the table to-night.”

“It is perfectly absurd. Father has some duties to his family, I think. For instance, if he would remember he had a daughter. Where is Rose?”

“Rose is with that angelic young person, Miss Van Hoosen. And it is not your place to call your father ‘absurd.’ Some day, you will be proud of him.”

“My dear mother, Rose is not with Yanna.”

“Yanna! Rose told me that she was going to the matinee with Miss Van Hoosen. I suppose she is spending the evening with her also.”

“Rose is at home. She was brought home by Antony Van Hoosen, in a cab. He took her from that fellow Duval. They were taking wine together in a restaurant. Now do you understand?” He spoke with gathering passion, and Mrs. Filmer looked frightened and anxious, but she answered scornfully:

“No, I do not. You must speak more plainly. Is Rose sick? Is she hurt? Why should Mr. Van Hoosen interfere with Miss Filmer?”

“Mother, go and ask Rose ‘why.’ I cannot say what I intended to say. I shall go to father; perhaps I can talk to him, if he will listen to me.”

Mr. Filmer was surrounded by slips of paper which he was arranging with so much absorbing interest that he did not at once look up. But as Harry 151 remained standing before him, he said fretfully: “I have to arrange these data while the facts are fresh in my mind. What do you want, Harry?”

“I want to tell you about Rose, sir. You must put down your data and listen to me. It is the most important duty you have.”

Then the attitude of the elder gentleman changed as quickly as a flash of light. He cast the slips of paper upon the table; his thoughtful countenance became alert; he turned round, faced his son, and asked, sharply: “What do you want to say about your sister?”

Then it was as if some seal had been taken off Harry’s heart and lips. He spoke from the foundations of his being; he said: “Sir, my dear sister is on the way to mortal and immortal ruin; and both you and mother shut your eyes to the fact. I also have refused to see what others see. I have said to myself, when mother speaks, when father speaks, it will be time enough for me to do my part. Sir, Rose takes too much wine; she takes it at improper times, and with improper people. This afternoon Mr. Van Hoosen found her with that nephew of Folletts – you know the man.”

“Richard Duval?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go on, Harry. Tell me all you know. What had Antony Van Hoosen to do with the matter?”

“He saw that she was taking too much. And he loves Rose better than his own life. So he invented an excuse to get her home.”

Mr. Filmer bit his lips passionately, and Harry saw that he was disposed to settle his anger upon the innocent. “Sir,” he said, “Antony did our family a great kindness. I met him on the avenue afterwards, 152 and we had a long conversation. He is coming to see you in the morning. He is anxious to have the right to watch over Rose – to protect her – ”

“God in heaven! Has not Rose a father, and mother, and brother?”

“We have hitherto done nothing to help, or to save, the girl. We have each and all trusted to the power of social laws and judgments. Mother and I have certainly suspected, feared, divined something wrong for a long time; and we have both acted as if we thought by ignoring the danger we could destroy it. Antony loves her better than we do. He is ready to marry her at once. He will take her to Europe, and watch over her constantly, until the temptation is dead, and the memory forgotten by every one.”

“Harry, we do not want a stranger to do our duty, do we? If Rose is to be taken away, her father and mother are the proper persons to go with her.”

“Not in this case, father. When a man of Antony’s spotless character, good lineage, and great wealth makes Rose his wife, every one’s mouth will be shut by the honor done her. People will recall the old reports only to say, ‘There must have been a mistake! Rose is so excitable!’ And no one will eventually, in the face of such a fact as her marriage, trust their own sight or memory about what they think they have seen or heard. If you are Rose’s friend, my dear father, listen to what Antony Van Hoosen says, and make Rose marry him.”

“Make? Who can make a woman do what she is resolved not to do?”

“Then, let us go back to Woodsome; there we may be better able to protect Rose from herself and others.”

“Yes. We can go back to Woodsome.”

“But even that will not be sufficient, sir.”

“Do you think I am unaware of my duty, Harry? If Mr. Van Hoosen is willing to devote his life to watching and guarding Rose, what am I capable of? I, her father! I will leave my studies; I will put every thought out of mind but Rose. The Saviour who went out into the wilderness after the stray lamb shall be my example. All the other ninety-and-nine interests of life shall be forgotten, if so I may accomplish this one.” He rose as he said the words, and stooping to the table, swept the slips of paper into an open drawer; and his face, though solemn, was full of light and purpose.

“We should have spoken plainly to each other before this hour, Harry,” he said, “and you were wrong not to have come to me before. A matter of such vital importance ought not to have been trusted to the peradventures and influences of society. We ought to have looked the danger in the face; we ought to have acknowledged it to each other, and never suffered the possibility of such a sorrow and shame to have become even a probable event.”

“My dear father, it is not surely too late. I will help you in any way I can.” And then Mr. Filmer’s eyes met his son’s eyes, and, oh, how well they understood each other!

“And the way being the way of duty, Harry,” he answered, “we shall not miss it; for duty is the commandment exceeding broad.”

At this point Mrs. Filmer entered, and Harry, after placing her in a chair, left the room. For a few minutes she sat quiet, looking into the fire with that apathetic stare which follows exhausted feeling.

Then Mr. Filmer put his chair beside hers, and taking her hand, said:

“My dear Emma, we must bear and fight this trouble together. Harry has told me all. And I do think, if Mr. Van Hoosen will marry Rose, it is the very best thing for the dear girl. He will take her to Europe, into entirely fresh scenes, – and marriage buries so many imperfections and offences.”

“Pray, what has Mr. Van Hoosen to do with Rose?”

“He wishes to marry her. He wishes to have the right to watch over and protect her.”

“Mr. Van Hoosen marry Rose! What an idea! Rose is exceedingly angry at him. She says he interfered with her in the most unwarrantable manner, and frightened her until she has been quite sick from the shock.”

“He did well to frighten her. On that awful road leading down, and down, nothing but a fright will arrest attention. If Rose will not put herself in a loving husband’s care, then we will shut this house and go to Woodsome to-morrow night.”

“Such nonsense!”